by Kathy Tyers
surprisingly fragile. You may carry him. He seems subdued."
"Oh, thank you." Dev guessed at the right amount of enthusiasm to pump
into his voice. He knelt and pulled Skywalker's arms over his shoulder.
Skywalker, he projected again, are you all right?
The Jedi did not answer. The buzz of his thoughts had shut off. He must
be truly unconscious, then. The aliens had won... for the moment. Dev
struggled to his feet. His anger boiled every time he remembered another
abuse. They popped to the surface of his memory like foul bubbles. He couldn't
let the Ssi-ruuk win--and not just for the sake of the galaxy. They owed him a
life. A personality. A soul.
"Good," said Bluescale. "Now help Firwirrung."
Staggering already, Dev let the smaller alien lean on his shoulder.
Firwirrung wobbled forward, covering his wounded forelimb with the intact
foreclaw. The double weight sent new spasms down Dev's weakened back. He bit
his tongue. He was supposed to be brainwashed. The Ssi-ruuk saw humankind,
like P'w'ecks, as livestock... experimental animals... soulless.
Bluescale bent and seized the lightsaber. What about the female? Dev
guessed Bluescale wouldn't want to carry her. Skywalker's resistance had saved
her, at least. With only Dev able to carry, the Ssi-ruuk wouldn't go looking
for her. They must even leave their beheaded comrade behind.
Bluescale led toward the kitchen doors, letting them swing back and bump
Dev. He lost his balance and almost dropped his burden against a hot cooking
surface. The ends of Skywalker's hair shriveled over its intense heat. By the
time Dev had recovered his balance, the hissing green blade had vanished.
Bluescale dropped the silent saber handgrip into his shoulder pouch, clipped
the pouch around his body again, and proceeded between kitchen machines with
his beamer drawn. Firwirrung stumbled against Dev. Dev racked his memory for
an appropriate reaction. "Are you in pain, Master?" he asked softly.
The alien grunted.
Bluescale held the rear door for Firwirrung. Outside under a pall of
spaceport dust stood the Imperial shuttle. Those now-stunned stormtroopers had
flown it to the Shriwirr, then ferried the party planetside. The sirens had
taken effect; Pad 12 and the others clustered around this cantina looked
almost deserted. Two P'w'eck guards still stood beside the shuttle, hidden
from observers by its drooping wings.
"Help Dev secure the prisoner," Bluescale whistled. Dev limped up the
ramp. The Jedi's cylindrical droid attempted to roll up after him, railing at
them in Ssi-ruuvi. Two P'w'ecks shoved it over the ramp's edge. It landed with
a crash and a final impotent threat. Dev pulled Skywalker into a rear seat,
insisting to himself that he had not given up hope. The P'w'ecks snapped
wristbinders onto the Jedi and then drew a flight harness around him.
Unwatched for the moment, Dev checked again through the Force for life
presence. Even unconscious, Skywalker's mind seemed warmer, brighter, louder
than other humans'.
What to do? If the Ssi-ruuk worked their will on Skywalker, humankind was
doomed.
Dev clenched his hands. That shot a paroxysm of pain up his left forearm.
Was he strong enough to strangle the Jedi, while Firwirrung and Bluescale
tried to fly the human shuttle?
Perhaps he could, but he recoiled. That would be a Ssi-ruuvi trick.
Skywalker was all Dev might have wished to be, if his mother had survived to
apprentice him to a master. He couldn't kill Skywalker--except at the last
moment, to keep the Ssi-ruuk from absorbing him.
If that happened, Dev wouldn't have long to grieve for Skywalker. The
Ssi-ruuk would kill him instantly.
Yet humankind would live free if he and Skywalker died. Agonizing, he
buckled into his own seat.
"How's it going up there?" Leia called softly.
"Almost through." Han perched on her reprogrammed repulsor chair directly
over the bed. Delicately holding his vibroknife in one hand, he cut a broad
oval in the wooden ceiling panel. A pale stream of sweet-smelling sawdust fell
glittering onto the white bedcover. "There!" he exclaimed. He struck the
ellipse with the palms of both hands, and it popped upward, showering him with
more dust.
"You're sure you can fit?" she asked.
The chair rose. His head and shoulders vanished, then the rest of him. A
moment later, his head and arms reappeared. "Looks good up here," he said.
"Stand back." He touched the chair's controls.
It crashed onto the bed. Leia gripped the blaster she'd stuck into her
belt and waited for a guard to open the hall door, but none did. She climbed
onto the bed, muscled the chair upright again, then switched it on. She rose
in stately grace toward the hole Han had cut, then seized his arms and let him
pull her through. They left the chair hovering.
A crawl space crossed the building from end to end, its low sloping roof
tapering to both sides. Dim daylight cast hazy rays in a large dusty room at
one end. "Vents at each side," Han murmured. "Speeders are parked outside,
around the corner to the right." He pointed toward the light. "Walk softly.
They'll hear you."
"No. Seriously?" she asked, loading her voice with sarcasm. She led
forward on hands and knees, careful to set her weight silently on beams and
joists. This attic felt more ancient than any human habitation she'd ever been
in. She made the right turn around a thick wooden pillar, then crawled up to
the vent. "Knife?" she whispered over her shoulder.
Han drew the vibroknife and sliced cautiously through the large vent's
snap bolts. "You take that end," he directed. "Pull it toward you."
She pried inward with her fingernails until it jutted out far enough to
grip, then together they pulled it free and set it silently in the dust beside
a desiccated pile of insectoid exoskeletons. Han crouched, peering out the new
hole, almost invisible in his sooty camouflage. She crouched closer.
Several speeders sat halfway between the lodge and the outwall, with five
troopers lounging around them. She eased sideways so she could see and point a
blaster out the hole at the same time. He did the same. "Ready?" she asked.
"Now," he whispered. She squeezed her trigger. Got one. Got two. Another
fell. The fourth and fifth dove behind a grounded speeder.
"Here goes nothin'." Han plunged through. Blaster bolts whined. Leia
spotted the trooper shooting at Han and dropped him. The other kept his head
down. Han jumped up and ran for the near speeder. A flash of light clipped his
left foot.
She leaped, rolled to break her fall, and then sprang to one side.
Another blaster bolt scorched the ground where she'd landed. She whirled
around and shot back, but the trooper ducked.
The roar of a speeder caught her attention. She zigzagged toward it and
scrambled on board, then grabbed an acceleration rail. Something stank like
burnt boot leather. Instantly, Han wrenched the throttle and lifters. They
soared over the compound's walls.
"Did they get you?" she shouted over wind noise as moody green forest
&nbs
p; passed underneath. The view south stretched over foothills, city, and emerald
plains toward a hint of blue ocean. Smoke rose from several sources midcity.
"Don't think it burned through the sole," he answered tightly. She eyed
his sooty, wind-whipped face and recognized pain.
She could do nothing till they reached the Falcon. He was obviously
functioning. "Life with you's never dull." She stroked his scratchy chin.
He managed a smile. "Couldn't have that," he called. The wind blew his
^ws back at the forest.
Leia glanced away. The speeder's roar seemed to change pitch. No, it was
another one. "Han--"
"We've got company," Han interrupted. "Over there."
"There's one on my side, too--no, three of them!"
They were surrounded. "So it.was a trap." Han grimaced. "They can shoot
us down and get rid of us for good."
"Escaping arrest," Leia agreed aloud.
"Hang on!" Han spun the speeder in a tight arc back up into the
foothills. Two more Imperial craft appeared in front of them. Han pulled back
on the altitude control, climbing and turning simultaneously. Leia twisted
around in her seat and fired at one speeder. She felt like a trapped animal
with the pack closing in, and nothing to fight with but her teeth and
fingernails.
Her stomach swooped up through her midsection as Han flipped the speeder
through the top of the arc. "No good," he shouted. "They've got hot military
models." Something bright and noisy, a streak of laser-cannon energy, passed
beside them on the starboard side.
Shedding altitude at a dizzying pace, Han steered for the treetops. "When
I say jump, jump. Hide behind some rocks or--"
"Han!" she exclaimed. "Reinforcements!" A pair of tiny X-winged
silhouettes dropped out of the cloudy blue sky. X-wing space fighters had
twice the speed and firepower of those landbased speeders....
Instantly Han pulled the speeder up again and pushed for altitude. "The
minute they spot 'em--"
Sure enough, the Imperials scattered. "Wish we had a comlink," Leia
muttered. "They almost act like somebody sent them here. Maybe Luke?"
"Wouldn't surprise me," Han muttered. He steered down the drainage toward
the wide river. An X-wing swept into position at his three o'clock, and the
other came in at nine o'clock high.
Leia waved. Inside the slanting cockpit, a slim black-gloved hand waved
back.
Their escort looked incongruous this close to a green planetary surface.
Leia recalled Yavin, and the hidden groundside Rebel base where she'd waited
for the first Death Star to attack.
Where the river curved southeast, just north of Salis D'aar, both
fighters soared again toward space. "They don't want to be seen this close to
the city," Leia observed. "It'd alarm the Bakurans."
"Glad somebody's thinking," answered Han.
Thanks, Luke. It was still just a guess, but Leia felt confident about
it.
"Shortest route to the Falcon is right through downtown," Han observed.
"If the locals try to stop us for violating curfew, they're going to have a
rough time."
Salis D'aar's ground routes, including a high bridge connecting the white
cliff with the western side of the broad river, teemed with slow vehicles--
probably families moving their worldly goods north into the mountains, curfew
or no curfew. Leia wished momentarily that they could stop by the complex. She
hated leaving the Ewoks' bracelet behind, but it wasn't worth risking her
life.
They met little air traffic. "Anybody who could fly out already did," Han
guessed.
"Where are the droids?"
"Artoo's probably still in Captison's office." Then he explained what
he'd done with Threepio.
She laughed, picturing his arrival at the Falcon. "I only hope Chewie
didn't blast him before he spoke up."
"He's got my comlink. I'm sure he took care of himself."
Shreds of dusty smoke covered the spaceport from hundreds of blastoffs.
Han steered down into the murk and landed practically on top of the Falcon. It
wasn't guarded, except by one lone Wookiee. "Where's Threepio?" Leia
exclaimed.
Chewbacca snorted and snarled. "You what?" Han answered. "Chewie, we've
got to dump his Flutie-talk program onto the Falcon's computer!"
Chewbacca howled, sounding apologetic.
"Yeah, I should've. Well, fix him up."
Chewie had blasted him. Too late for regrets. Leia dashed up the ramp
behind Chewbacca. "I hope it's fueled," she exclaimed as she dropped into her
high-backed seat.
Chewbacca bellowed. "Topped up and ready for a trip to the Core," Han
translated as he hobbled into the cockpit. "Do what you can for Threepio,
Chewie. Leia, strap down."
Leia's seat began to vibrate. The engines' roar mounted.
"Chewie, wait! Any new modifications?" Han shouted.
His partner woo-woofed from behind her.
"Oh." Han sounded appreciative. "That should come in handy. Where did you
patch it in?"
Chewie reappeared in the corridor, rolled his eyes at the overhead
panels, then answered.
"You sliced out what?"
"Now what?" Leia asked.
"Ah, he got a Bakuran tech to give us more power to energy shields, but
that increased the hyperdrive multiplier. As soon as we're out of here," he
insisted, leveling a finger at Chewie, "that goes back to specs. My specs."
All Leia wanted now was speed insystem. "Falcon's coming up," she
snapped. "Let's move it."
CHAPTER 17
"Now the left leg."
Obediently Gaeriel wiggled her toes.
The Imperial medic frowned, pressed Gaeri's head back with inexorable
professional gentleness, and reexamined the faint burn across the hollow of
her throat. "Some kind of nervous-system ionization, I suppose. That's what
I'll put on the report."
She coughed. "May I go now?"
"I'm sorry. We've been asked to keep you here a little longer, under
observation."
"What's going on? I heard a siren."
"They've struck at the orbital station."
Then it had begun. She gazed around the bare room. Four white walls and a
distant ceiling, no windows, one door. The emergency patrol had brought her
back to the complex on a repulsor stretcher. Before that, her most vivid
memory was of Luke advancing toward four armored stormtroopers. Then the civil
defense alarm. Then the droid dragged her outdoors to safety, and she'd lain
alone for a long, long time, until the emergency patrol reached the cantina.
By then, Skywalker and the Ssi-ruuk had vanished in the Imperial shuttle...
and she could almost move again.
But it was over, humankind doomed. They'd taken Luke. She couldn't
imagine even a Jedi with enough power to singlehandedly resist... whatever
they hoped to do with him. Would they try to make him a superdroid? Maybe they
would fail.
But even if they didn't, she'd rather die here on Bakura than a Ssi-ruuvi
prisoner. Her depression hardened to resolve. Nothing and no one could
threaten her now.
The medic slipped out. Gaeri slid down from the be
d and limped to the
door. All her muscles seemed functional again, but her movements lagged behind
her intentions. She touched the door's sensor panel.
Locked.
They couldn't mean to hold her here long. The room didn't even have...
Now that she'd thought about comfort facilities, she wished she hadn't. She
considered Eppie, running a revolt from a keyboard in a shabby apartment.
Would she have time? The Bakur complex sprawled across the heart of Salis
D'aar, with dozens of entrances How did she mean to get control of it--or did
she? She only needed control of Wilek Nereus. Commander Thanas and the space
forces were already offplanet, defending Bakura--
Her thoughts spun to a dejected halt. There'd be no defense against the
Ssi-ruuk now.
The door opened. Two naval troopers stepped through. "Come," ordered one.
Gaeriel followed him past a medical station and up a hallway. Soon she
realized where they were taking her, and she resisted the temptation to bolt.
She'd always managed to avoid Governor Nereus's private office. She'd heard
disturbing rumors. And then there were Nereus's subtle attentions....
The lead trooper opened the governor's door and motioned her inside. She
walked in calmly. Better to die on Bakura, but die fighting.
Governor Nereus sat at a desk with a polished, off-white surface. Faint
brownish veins on it made concentric circles, like tree rings, but it didn't
look like wood. He silently motioned her to a chair and watched the troopers
leave.
A framed tri-D on the nearest wall caught her attention first a huge,
snarling carnivore. Its four long white fangs looked eerily substantial.
"The Ketrann," said Nereus. "Of Alk'lellish III."
"The teeth. Are they... real?"
"Yes. Look around you."
Above and beyond the tri-D hung others like it, with here and there a
simply arrayed full set of teeth. "This is your collection, then?"
"Predator species. I have seventeen worlds, including the Bakuran
Cratsch." He tapped a clear cube at one corner of his desk. "On that wall--"
He pointed left at another set of tri-D images. "Intelligent aliens." She
thought of the Wookiee Chewbacca's huge canines and frowned. "And the most
dangerous predator." He tossed her a multifaceted crystal. Inside gleamed two
pair of human incisors.
She wanted to throw it at him, but resisted. She might cause more